Three Letters

by Josephine Cox

Soon, much to the boy’s relief, the bus shuddered to a halt, and it was time to get off.

  Granddad went first, then Dolly, and then Casey. But as he left, the girl watched him go, and when he turned round, she unnerved him with her cheeky little smile. Rushing forward to get out that much quicker, he lost his footing and tripped headlong into the conductor.

  ‘Whoa! Steady there, lad.’

  Hoisting him up by the arms, the conductor set Casey upright, but when Granddad went to help him down onto the pavement, Casey was having none of it. ‘I can get down myself, Granddad. I’m all right!’

  Feeling foolish, he couldn’t get away from there quick enough, especially when the girl passed them by and turned to smile right at him.

  All the way to Henry Street, he remained silent, his head hung down, and his eyes crinkled in a little grin. He thought the girl was very pretty, and he wondered what her name was.

  ‘You’re a wicked little girl, Susie.’ Having seen the chaos his niece had caused with her lovely smile, the man teased her, ‘You’re too free and easy with that smile of yours.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She had seen the boy trip and she was really sorry. ‘It wasn’t me who made him fall down the step.’

  ‘Really? Well, it certainly wasn’t me.’ Tall, with kindly features, thick brown hair and dark eyes, Steve Bates was a fine-looking man. Mischievously teasing the girl now, his smile was every bit as captivating as the one his niece had showered on Casey.

  ‘Poor little devil. I’m not surprised he fell down the step.’

  The girl deliberately ignored him.

  ‘Susie?’

  ‘I’m not listening!’

  ‘All right. Please yourself.’ He knew how to deal with this little bundle of mischief. Ignore her, and she would soon come back at you.

  He turned his mind to the new enterprise and his blood raced with excitement. He had done well in the music business. Having worked his way up the ranks as a professional guitarist and folk singer, he had the ambition and now the money in place to create a recording studio of such magnificence that it would be renowned throughout the music and entertainment worlds.

  He knew the pitfalls, but he also knew that this was what the music industry needed, especially now, with new groups and solo artists bursting onto the scene. A new age was emerging; a different style. And he was determined to be a part of it.

  He planned to have the best-equipped, purpose-built recording studios in the land, and his instinct and experience told him that players, composers and management from every part of the music industry would travel miles to use them.

  Getting the project off the ground would be a huge financial drain on his resources, which was why he had chosen to look north, where land and manpower were relatively attainable, while land in the south was far more expensive, making it impossible to find a suitable site without his taking on potentially crippling loans.

  He was not too proud to take advice from performers themselves. After all, they would be the ones using the facilities, and he knew from his own experience that current studios left a lot to be desired. Moreover, the better ones were nearly always booked up months in advance.

  Also, he knew this area. He felt confident here, having spent some time in this part of the country many years ago, when he was a struggling musician. Growing melancholy, his thoughts wandered back to a particular time some nine years ago, and the girl he deserted.

  After all this time, he suspected that, like himself, she would be long married and, unlike himself, she probably had children.

  He gave a wry little smile. He recalled her to be a hot-blooded girl, whom he had not found it easy to leave behind. In fact, he would not be surprised to find she had a whole little army of children in her trail.

  A wave of sadness rippled through him, as he recalled a recent conversation he and his wife had shared; during which she had made her thoughts very clear. ‘I told you from the start I didn’t want children, and I still don’t!’

  From day one she had told him that, but he’d married her because he thought he loved her, and because he hoped that one day she might love him enough to change her mind. But she never did, and unfortunately for him, she never would.

  Little by little, moment by moment, they had grown apart.

  He had never forgotten the girl he’d left behind here, in the north. He had secretly kept a photograph of her hidden away in the back of his wallet. In his mind’s eye, he could see it now. They had spent the day together, and he had never been happier, not before or since.

  But life and his musical ambitions got in the way. When unexpectedly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity came along, he deserted her. He was not proud of that.

  Her name was never far from his thoughts. He often wondered what might have happened if things had been different, if he’d been a little more mature, or if he had not chosen his budding career over her.

  As it turned out, he’d been right to take that first unexpected and exciting opportunity when it came up. But in putting his career before her, he now believed that he had lost something very precious; something he could never get back.

  Even now, after all this time, and because the memories were still raw, he had been reluctant to return to this particular area. But he was first and foremost a musician and a businessman, and to that end, as always he would put his career and music before anything else.

  If truth be told, he still had regrets over the sudden and cruel way he had left her. But life marched on relentlessly; that was the way of things. Or so he told himself. Business-wise he had achieved what he used to think was unattainable; in his private life, however, in all honesty, he was not a contented man.

  ‘All right then, what were you going to say?’ The girl jolted his thoughts.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Just now, you were going to say something to me.’

  ‘Oh, yes, that’s right. And you said you were not listening.’

  ‘I’m listening now.’

  ‘And I’m supposed to remember what I was about to say, is that it?’

  ‘Yes! So, tell me.’

  He knew well enough what he was about to say, but for her impudence he decided she should be made to wait. ‘Mmm … let me see, what was it?’

  ‘Stop it, Uncle Steve, you know very well.’

  ‘Oh, do I? Well then, if I remember rightly, we were talking about the boy. I asked why you didn’t say hello. I mean, he seemed friendly enough.’

  ‘I didn’t say hello ’cause I didn’t want to,’ she fibbed. ‘Anyway, Mummy said I should never talk to strangers.’

  ‘Quite right too! And the boy might have wanted to be friends, and then, just as you begin to make friends, he would have gone off with the old fella. Then, before you know it, you’ll be gone back to London with your mother … after the two of you have emptied all the shops in Lancashire! And all that time you spent getting to know the boy would be wasted.’

  ‘Why are you angry?’

  ‘I’m not angry.’

  ‘You sound angry.’

  ‘Well, I promise, I’m not.’ For a moment there, he had been thinking of himself and the sweetheart he’d left behind. ‘I tell you what, Susie. When we get off this bus, the first thng we’ll do is go and get an ice cream. What d’you say?’

  ‘Ooh, yes! I’d like a cornet, please.’

  ‘OK, we’ll each have a cornet.’

  Steve grew melancholy. The girl was right: he had been angry. Angry that he gave his wife everything, while she gave him nothing. Angry that some nine years ago he had walked out on an innocent young woman who cared deeply for him.

  But that was in the past, and he put the past behind him in the belief that the young woman he’d left behind was probably happily married and had forgotten all about him.

  ‘Uncle Steve, I don’t want to go back home. I want to stay here with you. I want to see where you’re building your music studios.’

  ‘No, Susie, I told you before we came h
ere, I could be up north for some weeks. It may well take that long to locate the site I need; assuming I do find one. If I can’t find a suitable site here in the north, I’ll have to look elsewhere.’

  ‘Uncle Steve?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mummy wanted Auntie Connie to come with us. Why did she not come? She should have, because they’re sisters, and it’s good for sisters to spend time together.’

  ‘They’re not sisters, sweetheart. They’re sisters-in-law, because your daddy is my brother … It’s complicated.’

  ‘Well anyway, Mummy asked her and she said no, and I think that was mean, even if she is your wife. Besides, I don’t suppose Auntie Connie was doing anything else, so she could have come with us.’

  ‘And Mummy was disappointed, was she?’

  ‘She said she wasn’t, but she was really.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry about that, but I think your auntie Connie didn’t come with us because she really was too busy to come.’ His mood darkened. ‘I’m sure she would have come otherwise.’

  ‘Mummy told Daddy that Auntie Connie should be with you on this trip because it’s really important to you. She said you might as well not be married, because Auntie Connie acts like she …’ screwing up her face, she tried to remember the exact words, ‘… er … like she’s footers and fancy three.’

  Steve laughed out loud. ‘I think you mean footloose and fancy-free.’

  ‘Well, anyway, that’s what Mummy said. She was angry. She said Auntie Connie always likes to go her own way, and she doesn’t care about your music.’

  Steve was not best pleased to hear that, although he knew it was true enough. ‘Your mummy really thinks that, does she?’

  ‘Yes, and I think so too.’

  ‘I see.’

  This delightful little girl was the apple of his eye, a breath of fresh air, and everything she relayed to him was not new. He was only too aware of his wife’s faults, and even his own, where this failing marriage was concerned. How could he not, after years of being married to a woman who had little concern for others and could not see past his wallet?

  ‘Well then, my little know-all, if you think it must be true, who am I to argue? So, now that you’ve put the world to rights, will you kindly give it a rest and stop nagging me?’ Turning his head away he couldn’t help but give a little chuckle at the wisdom of a seven-year-old.

  When, curious, the girl looked up, he made out he was having a coughing fit.

  ‘Mummy says you don’t take care of yourself … always flying about and running off and playing your music.’

  ‘Hmm! Your mummy certainly has a lot to say, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, and I think you should listen to her because she knows best.’

  Chuckling again, he gave a little shake of his head. ‘What am I gonna do with you, eh?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, what with your mother wanting to buy out all the women’s shops in Blackburn, and you wanting me to take you everywhere I go, I wish I’d left the pair of you at home.’

  ‘Uncle Steve?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You shouldn’t say that.’

  ‘Shouldn’t say what?’

  ‘You shouldn’t grumble about Mummy. And Mummy shouldn’t grumble about Auntie Connie, although Auntie Connie’s not as nice as Mummy, because sometimes she makes people fed up with her.’

  ‘Oh! And don’t I know it! It was your auntie Connie who talked me into bringing the pair of you up here with me. I must be the only man who would bring along his sister-in-law, and a little chatterbox who can’t stop talking, even when I’m supposed to have my mind on business. I’m supposed to be getting the lie of the land from this bus trip, not arguing with you.’

  ‘It’s not kind to say that. And anyway, you’re my uncle, and uncles should be kind to their nieces.’

  ‘Oh, is that so? Well, how about nieces being kind to their uncles? You haven’t once smiled at me, in the way you smiled at that boy,’ he teased. ‘You gave him the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen you give anyone.’

  ‘I never!’

  ‘Yes, you did.’

  ‘Hmm!’ She was done arguing.

  But she thought about the boy and how sad he looked, and she really wished she had spoken to him.

  But it was too late now, because the boy had gone off with his granddad, and most likely she would never see him again.

  Somehow, the thought of never seeing him again made her feel really sad, too.

  As he neared Henry Street, Casey thought of his dad and the reason they were here, and he secretly felt sick with nerves.

  When they arrived at the house, Dolly noticed Casey’s reluctance to go up the two steps to the front door.

  She had a suggestion. ‘Casey? What if your granddad goes in first, and you show me the place down by the water, where Granddad said you used to play … what was it called now?’ She feigned a memory loss. ‘I can’t remember the name of it …’

  ‘Blakewater.’

  ‘Oh, yes, that’s it, Blakewater. So, do you want to show me, and maybe Granddad could make a start on listing things in the house? What d’you say?’

  Casey welcomed her suggestion. ‘All right … if Granddad doesn’t mind?’

  ‘I don’t mind one bit.’ The old man was thankful for Dolly’s suggestion. ‘You two get along, and I’ll mek a start on sorting things out here.’

  Dipping into his jacket pocket, he took out the envelope that he’d received from the landlord, took out the house key, turned it in the lock and threw open the door.

  ‘We’ll not be long,’ Dolly assured him.

  Casey was concerned. ‘I don’t like leaving you on your own, Granddad.’

  ‘Aw, don’t you worry about that, lad, ’cause I’ll not be on my own for long. Patrick Riley will be turning up in his old wagon any minute now and, knowing him, he’ll have enough gossip to keep me busy for at least half an hour. So, if you two want to make your way back after that, it’ll work out right.’

  By the time he turned away, Dolly and Casey were already making their way over the little bridge, and on, towards the narrow path that led down to the Blakewater.

  Dolly was anxious that she had done the right thing in bringing him here. According to what the boy had told her, he and his daddy had spent many a pleasant hour in this place so this was bound to be difficult for him, yet she thought he might be glad of reliving his memories. That way, in the future, whenever he felt sad or lonely, those wonderful memories would comfort and gladden him.

  As they came onto the lower ground, the boy’s mind and heart were flooded with those precious memories.

  He recalled how, in the summertime, he and his daddy would sometimes wade barefoot in the water, squealing and holding hands when the pebbles hurt their feet. Other times they would just sit and quietly talk, watching the water flow and dip as it went on its busy way. That was the time Casey liked best. They talked about fishing and football, and how he was doing at school – small, seemingly unimportant things – but to the boy, they were even more precious now, because those lovely times down here with his daddy would never happen again.

  For the next half-hour, Casey and Dolly sat beside the water. For a time they remained silent. Dolly was saddened by the turn of events that had brought them here. And Casey was moved by a mingling of sorrow and love; but along with these emotions, he was filled with a deep sense of joy at reliving the Blakewater memories, when he and his daddy had learned to know each other, man and boy; father and son.

  And now, he would always have that, locked in his heart for ever.

  ‘I’m glad you brought me here, Dolly.’ He daren’t look up in case she saw his tears.

  Dolly, however, heard the tears in his voice. Without a word, she slid her arm round his shoulders, and when he leaned into her and sobbed as though his heart would break, she held him close until the emotions died down, and he was able to smile and eventually to confide in her.
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  ‘In his letter my dad promised that he would be with me when I’m worried or sad. Is it true, Dolly? Can he do that?’

  Dolly was honest in her reply. ‘I don’t know, Casey. None of us knows what we’re able to do once we’re gone from this life. But tell me something, did your father ever lie to you?’

  The boy shook his head. ‘No, I’m sure he never did.’

  ‘So you always trusted in him, is that right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, trust him now, Casey. Believe what he told you – that he will always be near. If it is truly possible to be with you in spirit, your daddy will find a way.’

  Shyly, Casey kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’m so happy that you and Granddad are friends.’

  Dolly smiled warmly, ‘What if Granddad and I were to became more than friends – would that bother you?’

  ‘What, d’you mean … get married?’ He was not altogether surprised.

  ‘Well, what if it happened some day, would you mind?’

  ‘No, because Granddad really likes you. He said you were …’ he carefully recalled the very words, ‘… “the best thing to come into my life since Grandma”.’

  Dolly blushed a deep shade of red. ‘Did he really say that?’

  ‘He did, yes.’ Embarrassed, Casey turned his attention to the flow of water over the pebbles; it made a weird sort of rippling pattern in the water, much like the pattern on the backs of seashells.

  Seemingly content, the two of them sat quietly for a while.

  Dolly was still thinking about what Casey had told her. She was so thrilled that Granddad Bob had confided to his grandson that he liked her, because she liked him as well. She too had been lonely since losing her own loved one, but lately she was happier than she’d been for a very long time.

  Back at the house, Bob was still looking out for his old friend. I bet he’s gone the wrong way, or the engine’s packed up, and he’s stuck in some godforsaken ginnel, he thought. Useless, that’s what he is. Useless an’ unreliable!

  At that moment he heard the wagon coughing and spluttering as it bumped over the cobbles.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe what’s happened to me!’ With clutches of wild red hair jutting out from beneath a flat cap, and his head stuck out the window, the little Irishman brought the wagon to a juddering halt. ‘You silly old divil, Bob. You led me on a wild-goose chase, so ye did!’